


Mortality of the immortal

by Tell_me_about_it_shug



Series: And it's in the quality of the Gods [3]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Genre: F/M, Inaccurate Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22859389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tell_me_about_it_shug/pseuds/Tell_me_about_it_shug
Summary: Perhaps it was the way she laughed when Icarus fell from the heavens. Or maybe it was the way flowers caved beneath her feet.Either way he wanted her.
Relationships: Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Pre Hades/Persephone
Series: And it's in the quality of the Gods [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607104
Kudos: 34





	Mortality of the immortal

He was the sword and the scythe and the unseen. He is what mortals fear in life and their king in death and he is the rusted iron wrought casket that holds your soul when you are nothing more than stardust and rot and made of memories. When your empires fall and wash away with the rising of the sea and the ache of your bones mixed with the iron and stardust in your blood and lungs finally gives way and you collapse into some supernova, he is the one who looks through the cracks of your soul and gaseousness of your space and decides what happens to you.

And yet here he is.

In the face of nimble fingertips dyed gold in pollen and buttercups and anconites entangled in hair and dark skin and darker eyes, he is no more than mortal. Perhaps it was the way she laughed when Icarus fell from the heavens and marigolds bloomed at her feet or the black ichor beneath her flesh and the darkness of her bones, all wrapped up in the beauty of spring and summer and wildflowers and honeysuckle that betrayed nothing of the darkness that hid beneath her flesh.

He could see the obscurity and umbra in her that craved for the taste of forbidden fruit and an iron throne, welded from bone and ash.

In the face of blackened and purpled Narcissus and pomegranate seeds and the wicked curve of smile and laughter spilling from open lips like sunlight and life, he was no more than mortal.


End file.
